In the Summer of 1981 there was a massive outing of 7 steppers and graduates who all met at Pine Island up in I guess Hernando county. Charlie Pitman had bought or rented a large beach house on stilts and we had a big blow-out Bar-B-Que for Memorial day. Winston Pitman and some other guys had some wind surfing boards and took great delight in getting their hands all over any girls that wanted a 'free lesson.' I had a great time and when I was about to leave, a girl named Donna Freidlan asked me for a ride to her home in Tampa.
She offered me 10 bucks for gas, which was about two thirds a tank in them days. I agreed to it, and just when I was about to leave with her, Dawn DeShawn walks up to me with Mr. Pitman's cordless phone and says, "Here, someone wants to talk to you." It was her mother, who begged me to drive her daughter home, because she had gotten into a fight with the people who brought her. What a bunch of shit. This blew my chance of a nice long ride to get to know Donna. Dawn ran her jaws tirelessly for about 20 miles or so until me and Donna both turned around and yelled "Shut Up!!!" I probably did 90 or so the whole way down I-75 until I hit the exit and dumped Dawn off at her house. I then drove Donna to where she lived. It was a small wooden apartment building, and for the life of me I can't figure out how her mom could have paid for her program. Her mom must have worked for the program or something. She invited me in for some iced tea and we sat in the kitchen talking until her mom came home. She told me that she would be moving soon because her mom was tired of trying to make ends meet. I think she said they were moving to Illinois. I thanked her for the tea, said goodby and got in the Torino for the long ride home, and listened to the entire Springsteen Album 'The River' on my 8 track player before pulling in at the homestead. That was the last time me or anyone else ever saw Donna. She was one of the sweetest girls that ever came out of that hell-hole, but she had to move. Story of my life really. Every girlfriend I ever had growing up was eventually uprooted and moved on. By the time I got to high school I had stopped caring. It just comes with the territory of living in the biggest transient state outside of California. As for Dawn DeShawn, I do believe that it was the last time I ever saw her as well, but it was on purpose in her case. She only gave me four dollars for gas, and I found out from her sister later that her mom had given her a twenty after she had run inside for the money. That bitch! I was just glad the ride from hell was over.
